


Outpouring of Light

by collapsethelightintoearth



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Donna-centric, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Life After the Doctor, Major Illness, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:57:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collapsethelightintoearth/pseuds/collapsethelightintoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fourteenth of January marked the beginning of the end of Donna Noble’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The fourteenth of January marked the beginning of the end of Donna Noble’s life. Donna had gone to the hospital in hopes of finally getting some answers about her frequent migraines. Doctor Elliot listened while she explained that they tended to happen when she thought too hard about certain things, or if she ever tried to remember those lost ten months, three years ago. He had nodded, taken notes, and then asked if she had any other symptoms. After a slight hesitation, Donna told him what she had neglected to tell her mum and granddad. Told him about the inexplicable bruising, the occasional nosebleeds and constant tiredness, and the fact that she felt as though she’d had the flu for well over a month. The headaches were still a priority, Donna stressed, _especially_ since they'd been going on for much longer, but the other symptoms were gradually worsening too.

─────

About halfway through Donna’s account of her other symptoms, Doctor Elliot had looked up at her sharply. He left the room a few moments later. Donna watched him go with vague interest, then took her phone out to text her mother that _yes_ , she’d be home in a little bit. After an unexpectedly long while, he returned, and a blond woman with glasses was standing at his side. She introduced herself as Doctor Edwards, a hematologist. Donna shook the woman’s hand methodically. Doctor Edwards explained gently that hematology was the study of blood diseases.

“I don’t understand,” Donna snapped. “What does that mean? For me, I mean.”

“Well,” Doctor Edwards said patiently, recognizing Donna’s hostility for the defense mechanism that it was. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything until we have a proper diagnosis. Right now, it means that your symptoms all point to Acute Myeloid Leukemia.” Her face took on a sad, curiously empathetic expression. Donna didn’t like it. “Acute Myeloid Leukemia is a cancer of the blood.”

Donna’s mind decided to shut down after the first mention of ‘ _leukemia_ ’. She heard it the second time, and then the word ' _cancer_ ', but just barely. The world spun around her, and only a single, heartbreakingly bitter thought was able to get through: ‘ _Doctors should do their jobs and_ save _people_ ’. A migraine started to form, the pressure in her head intensifying tenfold.

─────

When she came back to herself, her face was wet with tears. Doctor Elliot had apparently decided to leave the room, but Doctor Edwards had taken the chair opposite Donna. Her face was open, and Donna saw sympathy in her gaze.

Donna was the first to break the silence. She pondered her words carefully for a few long moments, looking down at her shaking hands. Then, “What are my options?”

At this, Doctor Edwards faltered momentarily. It was hardly noticeable, but Donna was hyperaware from nerves and adrenaline, and so she caught it.

“What?” Donna asked in a voice that was not nearly as steady as she would have liked it to be.

“Well, you haven’t even been diagnosed yet, and you _may not be_ , so remember that,” Doctor Edwards started. “But,” she continued, “If discussing possible treatments will help to ease your mind, then we can do that. Chemotherapy is one option. An example of that would be intrathecal chemotherapy, where we can inject the medications, known as chemotherapeutic agents, into the fluid-filled space between the thin later of tissue that covers your brain and spinal cord. There’s also radiation therapy, which uses high-energy x-rays or other types of radiation to kill off the cancer cells. Then there’s stem cell transplants, which would be given after chemotherapy in order to restore your body’s blood cells. And of course, there are always new drugs and treatments that are being tested right now in clinical trials. Those could be considered as well. I hope that helped shed some light on some of your questions.”

Doctor Edwards folded her hands in her lap and sat back to face Donna’s increasingly terrified eyes squarely.

“Donna,” she said. “You may not have to go through any of that if you aren’t diagnosed, but you _will_ have to go through tests to actually get a diagnosis. In order to find out if you do in fact have AML, you’ll be asked to come in for both a bone marrow biopsy and bone marrow aspiration. You’ll also have blood samples taken, where the doctors will perform different types of tests. Until then, though, you won’t know for sure.”

“How sure are you that I have it?” Donna asked desperately. Doctor Edwards met her eyes for a brief moment. “ _Please_ ,” She continued, then took a deep breath. _No going back._ “I want to know the truth.”

 Doctor Edwards hesitated again, but nodded resolutely. “As sure as we can be without a formal diagnosis.”

With one last sympathetic stare, she stood up and motioned for Donna to follow her. Donna nearly stumbled out of her chair, lightheadedness hitting her like a punch to the face. She and Doctor Edwards talked for a while longer, and Donna walked out of the hospital with a faint ringing in her ears.

─────

Even without a formal diagnosis, Donna’s world was collapsing around her as she walked to her car. She had seen the looks Doctor Elliot and Doctor Edwards had exchanged with one another. Doctor Elliot _had_ been out of the room for a long time, so he and Doctor Edwards must have been trying to figure out what was wrong with her. Donna tried to swallow down the panic climbing out of her chest and up her throat, and only barely managed to stay afloat amidst an overwhelming sensation of drowning. She pushed the unfamiliar _yet somehow familiar_ images of stars and planets, and hope out of her mind, knowing that thinking to deeply about them would only end in a migraine. The fact that she didn’t want to hope was only part of it. But the tears weren’t so easily ignored. In the middle of the dingy hospital parking lot, Donna sank to the pavement and began to sob.

─────

Donna wasn’t sure how she actually made it back to the house, but she did. Somehow. Her mum was there when she opened the door. Sylvia launched herself into a tirade.

“Why are you so late, Donna?! We were supposed to watch that film with your Granddad, and now he’s just watching the stars like there’s nothing better to do.”

She stopped there. Donna was still surprised by the softening of her mother’s criticism. Three years ago, Sylvia would have called her useless, hopeless. She always wondered what had happened to change that.

“Mum, can you get Granddad in here?” Donna asked softly. She realized belatedly that her face was probably still blotchy and red from sobbing. Sylvia stopped from where she’d been about to turn and leave.

“Everything all right, Donna?” Her mother questioned haltingly.

Donna just gave her a watery smile. “Just get him.” She said. “ _Please._ ”

Sylvia stared at her for a couple of seconds. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Okay.” She went out of the house. Donna heard her calling, “ _Dad!_ ”, but didn’t smile like she normally would.

Sylvia reentered the house, with Wilfred in tow.

“Hey, Donna! How’s my favorite granddaughter?” He beamed at her.

Any other time, Donna would’ve returned the grin cheekily and said, “I’m your  _only_ granddaughter.” Not today, though. Today, she sat down, across from her only family, and motioned for them to do the same.

“What is it, Donna?” Her mother snapped. Donna knew from experience that Sylvia was only trying to hide her worry. Nevertheless, Wilfred shot Sylvia a disapproving look at the tone of her voice. Before an argument could arise, Donna opened her mouth, trying to compose herself before she spoke.

“Mum, Granddad...” She trailed off, took a deep breath. “I– went to the hospital today. To see about, well, you know. The migraines.”

There was a terrifying pause. “And–?” Sylvia inquired, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Well, they didn’t know what caused them. Not a clue.”

“That’s what we told you, Donna.” Wilfred said, relaxing. Sylvia didn’t. She had not stopped looking at Donna since she’d sat them down. Her daughter was clearly hiding something. Donna caught her gaze, and began to speak again.

“But, there _is_ something wrong with me. I’m sorry. The migraines aren’t the only thing that’s been bothering me. I just– I didn’t want to worry you, and I guess I thought it would all just get better eventually.” The entire room was dead silent as Donna paused for the third time. “They think– they think it’s cancer.”

Both Wilfred and Sylvia’s eyes had gone wide and horrified at the word.

A full minute went by.

“How do they know, dear?” Sylvia ventured to ask.

When Donna laughed, it was bitter and broken sounding. “Well, they don’t know for sure. But Doctor Edwards said they’re as sure as they could be without a actual diagnosis.”

Then, quieter, “I’m going in for testing on Wednesday.”

Sylvia reached out to hug her daughter. Wilfred came around to hug the both of them. Pretty soon, all three were crying. Still holding onto his daughter and granddaughter, Wilfred closed his eyes, and prayed for one more miracle.


	2. Chapter 2

Donna went in for testing that Wednesday as scheduled. Frightened beyond speech, she didn’t immediately answer the doctor’s questions. A few minutes passed before she mustered up the courage to respond. The doctor took some blood samples, then sat her down and explained what the bone marrow biopsy and aspiration would entail. Donna nodded mechanically as she absorbed the information. She was instructed to lay on her stomach as the doctor began the tests. It _hurt_ , a sharp, bright flare of pain. Quietly, she pictured star-filled skies in a last-ditch effort to calm herself down. Right before her eyes shut completely, Donna swore the world turned a deep and brilliant blue

───── 

The tests finished a little while later. Donna was told that she’d have to wait up to a week for the results to come in. Resigning herself to a full seven sleepless nights, she left, trying and failing to still the shaking in her hands. 

When she got home, her mum was in the kitchen. Sylvia’s hands were clasped on top of the table. She asked, “How did it go?”

Donna forced a smile. “Well, they won’t know for about a week, maybe less. And it hurt pretty badly. But– well, I can’t do anything about it until I know for sure. So. I’m just going to hope for the best. Hope I’m not that sick, you know” Her voice cracked after the word _‘sick’_.

Sylvia nodded sadly. “I hope so too, Donna.”

She watched her daughter’s retreating figure leave the room. 

Silently, she cursed the Doctor. The headaches were his fault, and they could have easily jumpstarted this, possibly even made things worse than they would have been otherwise. But deep inside, she knew he wasn’t the only one to blame. After all, she was Donna’s mother, and she hadn’t even noticed her daughter was sick. From there, the guilt began to set in. 

─────

It was six days later, the following Tuesday, that Donna heard back. She parked her car and made the suddenly endless walk to the hospital’s doors. Upon checking in, she made her way to a white, sterile room and sat down. Doctor Edwards, the woman she saw last time, stepped in to join her. 

“So,” Donna started boldly. “What’s the diagnosis?” It was obvious she was trying to mask her anxiety with false bravado. To be fair, it was her go-to defense mechanism.

“I’m sorry Donna.” Doctor Edwards stated. “But the results are conclusive; you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia, like we first thought.”

If Donna had thought her world had been crashing down after just hearing the disease be _considered_ a possibility, it was nothing compared to it being her new reality. She withdrew steadily further into herself the longer the other woman spoke. 

Doctor Edwards continued to talk. “We’ll want to get you started with chemotherapy as soon as possible.” Then, almost hesitantly, “We didn’t catch the cancer nearly as early as we would have hoped. It’s fairly developed.”

Donna felt like she couldn’t breathe. Waited for Doctor Edwards to give her some small bit of hope.

“From there, we’ll consider our next course of action.” Doctor Edwards smiled tightly in what was likely meant to be a reassuring way, but Donna felt no comfort. The smile was too tired, too _sad_ , and Donna was getting a disquieting impression that the other woman was not really expecting her to make it, even though she hadn't even _started_ to fight for her life yet.

“Okay.” Donna’s voice sounded far away even to her. There were no tears this time. Only a stark and aching emptiness. After what felt like hours, Donna left the hospital feeling far worse than she did last time. 

She started her car, but made no move to leave the parking lot. The feelings and thoughts that had been pushing at the back of her head for three years were stronger than they had ever been. Donna knew that acknowledging them for too long would lead to a burning feeling in her head, but for once she didn’t care. ‘ _Acute myeloid leukemia’_ kept repeating in her head and she would rather endure a migraine than hear her diagnosis one more time.   

And so she finally stopped focusing her attention on keeping them at bay. While the invisible presence– almost like a _dam_ – remained firmly in place, a fraction of the pressure against her mind was relieved. Feelings of self-worth and importance came to her, unbidden, as did the word, ‘ _Spaceman_ ’. As expected, a headache began to form, but at least she didn’t feel so alone. At least, however inexplicably, she had found _hope_. 

Driving back home, Donna held onto that little glimmer of hope for as long as she could, praying that it would last. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that all information on Acute Myeloid Leukemia here is gleaned from online sources. I am no expert, and thus have quite probably made a few errors. If anyone is more knowledgeable than me on this subject, or on cancer in general, please feel free to message me about any mistakes I have made. As always, constructive criticism of any kind is welcomed.


End file.
